


Darren’s Guide to ‘Idiomcy’

by hestherewithme



Series: Collection of Random Crisscolfer Drabbles. [6]
Category: Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme





	Darren’s Guide to ‘Idiomcy’

“Wasn’t one mention last week enough.” Chris muttered again, indicating their argument wasn’t over yet. 

“They wanted something big. Something clear.” Darren said rubbing his temple. 

 

“When the fuck are they gonna realize that the more you repeat something like that, the more suspicious people get. It’s almost like they’re trying to out you.” 

“Well wouldn’t that be a fucking blessing. At least it’ll stop us from fighting!” Darren yelled. 

“That’s because you’re not standing up for yourself!” 

“We agreed on this Chris. You and I both. This was something we decided on together.”

“And we can see how well that’s turning out.” Chris rolled his eyes, his anger making him pull up sarcasm as his defense.

He was about to continue, but stopped himself. He saw the pain in Darren’s eyes, those same eyes were pleading that Chris not take the upper hand on this argument. Not pull  _that_  card.

He understood, and realized that if he went there, the repercussions would be much worse than if he stayed silent. So that’s what he did, but if the slam of their bedroom door indicated anything, it was to signal that Darren was not to enter that room tonight. 

Chris didn’t know who to call. The only person he wanted to talk to was outside their room, but his ego couldn’t allow that. So he settled on calling someone who loved Darren almost as much as he did. He pulled out his phone and selected the contact named Cerina.

* * *

 

Darren wiped his tears, and took a pain killer for the headache that was coming along. He decided moping around wasn’t going to help his case, he had to do something mature. So he slumped outside the door where Chris was talking to someone on the phone. ‘ _Yes Darren, crying outside your bedroom while eavesdropping on your boyfriend. Very mature.’_  he thought to himself. 

He figured Chris was talking to someone to feel better, venting out his frustrations to someone else. The ones Darren had caused him. He couldn’t describe the guilt he felt right now. He had to fix this. He just had to figure out how. 

His ears perked up on the words he could make out from inside the room, “…To make it up to me?” 

Chris’ words were muffled, and Darren couldn’t understand what he was saying. Still, he pressed his ear to the door to hear what he needed to do to make this all better.

“„„Don’t know….In the dog house….So we’ll see.”  

He pulled back and thought to himself for a minute. He wondered if he heard that correctly? The dog house?

His brain was muddled right now, thanks to that pill. What the hell were aspirins made of nowadays?

But back to the important matter at hand, Chris wanted him to sleep in a dog house for the night. But. They didn’t have a dog house. They had a crate, that they kept Cooper in, whenever guests who didn’t take well to dogs, came over. If that’s what Chris wanted, he’d do it. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Chris got confused when he didn’t find Darren on the couch. He wondered where he could have gone. The argument wasn’t as bad as some had been, but Darren seemed pretty frustrated. They both were. And now he couldn’t find his boyfriend. He walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of juice, and tried waking himself up before he called Darren, ego be damned. 

As he walked towards his bedroom, he did a double-take. Because right there, in Cooper’s crate, crammed up, legs sticking out of the tiny door, Brian snuggled into his side, a sleeping Darren.

“Darren? What the hell are you doing?” he said loud enough for Darren to jolt into consciousness, hitting his head on the top railing of the crate. 

“Whaa. Huh? Chris?” Darren said sleepily. His cheek was reddened, where it had been smushed up against the carpet at the bottom of the crate. As he walked towards the crate, Chris wondered in how much pain his neck was, because Darren kept rubbing it in an attempt to soothe it. 

He’d ask for an explanation later, right now he tapped Darren’s legs, and helped him out of the crate carefully. He shielded his head from the slight chance Darren might hit it somehow, and he was right. 

He gave his glass of juice to Darren, making sure he was fully awake before he’d question where his sanity had disappeared to. 

“Dare. Are you going to explain to me why the hell you were sleeping where you were, or should I be jealous of my pet.”

“I can still make you jealous depending on where I spend the night?” 

“If it’s not next to me, then the answer is going to be yes.”

“Well, then good. It worked.”

“What worked?”

“I… Um. I sort of overheard you last night. Where you said that I could make it up to you by staying in the dog house.”

Chris stared at him dumbfounded, and tried to grasp what Darren’s thought process must have been like last night. He thought back to his conversation, and connected the dots. 

“Darren. You fucking idiot. I said ‘ **you were in the dog house** ’. You know, the common expression. I was implying the fact that I was angry or pissed off with something you did.” Chris explained. 

“Shit. How out of it was I last night?” shaking his head at his own stupid misunderstanding. 

“Incredibly.” Chris said, trying to contain his smile. Darren wasn’t even drunk for that to happen. He speculated to what lengths Darren would go, to make things okay between them. God, he loved this man so much. 

“My neck is killing me.” Darren asserted, hand still massaging the back of his neck. 

“Serves you right for eavesdropping.”

“I’m sorry. For everything. I’ll try okay. I’ll talk, and I’ll try my best to make this easier for us. I swear.”

Chris offered a compassionate smile in return, hoping it would convey his appreciation and approval of Darren’s statement.

“Want me to do something about your neck?” he asked kindly. 

“Please.”

“C’mon. Up. Go sit on the couch, and lay your head back.” Chris ordered. 

He knew they needed to talk about what happened yesterday. Darren would avoid talking about how much anything negative affected him. Sometimes Chris would let it slide, and take Darren’s mind off it. But sometimes he needed to talk it out. He couldn’t keep all those hardships cooped up inside him for long. He had to get him relaxed to get him talking, let him say whatever he wanted, expressing his anger, pain or grief. And Chris would talk him through it. But Chris had to initiate it somehow. 

He walked up behind the couch, standing behind Darren, and began working his shoulders. 

Darren released a pleasured groan, silently thanking Chris for what he was doing. ‘ _Now is the time to start.’_ Chris considered silently. He’d begin with emotionally luring Darren into talking about it. If there was any way to get Darren talking, was to bring himself into it. Darren was a tough nut to crack, but he proudly found out that he was Darren’s weakness. 

“I’m sorry too, by the way. This week wasn’t easy, with the new book being launched, and the scheduling for the tour, and on top of that, what they’re doing to you. It’s not easy to see that. To see you like that. It hurt me.” Chris said, voice cracking near the end of his sentence. 

Darren opened his eyes, looking up at Chris, undoubtedly affected by what Chris said.

“Chris. I don’t want you to worry. You worry way too much. You don’t need to, about me. I’m fine.” Darren replied, trying to shrug it off. 

 

“You say that. But you’re not. And you know better than pretending around me.” Chris said, moving his hands up to massage the sides of Darren’s neck. He could feel the muscles there fighting between loosening up, but also tense because of how worked up Darren was. But that was the thing, it was the stress causing him pain, not one night of sleeping in a crate. 

 

“It’s irritating. I hate it. I fucking hate it. I feel it tearing me apart during interviews like those. I want to just yell it out sometimes. I think they’re terrified I’ll do that someday. It’s like they’re trying to get me to that breaking point. But I can’t do that. To us. Not after all we’ve done.” Darren finally disclosed. 

Chris breathed out heavily, he knew exactly what Darren meant. They understood what the other was going through better than anyone else did. 

“I know. And I’m so proud of you. Of us. Even through all that bullshit.”

“Are you still mad at me? Darren asked, tilting his head back. 

He leaned towards Darren for a kiss, sighing happily into it. Breaking apart, feeling Darren’s smile against his own. 

“No. Right now I’m just worried if you rolled over on Brian last night. Or if Brian rolled over on you. Frankly, the latter sounds more dangerous.” Chris said, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Well, we could clear out any fear of that right away, if you’d let me into the bedroom.” Darren smiled, knowing they’d talk it out later, but right now they had much more important stuff to attend to. 

He kissed him again, and again, and when it was apparent that they weren’t ending their make-up session with just a few kisses, Chris demanded that Darren get up, grabbed his shirt, and led him inside the bedroom. 

An hour later, Chris had made sure that none of Darren’s bones were marred. However, the same could not be said for his skin, his chest and his neck, which was now covered with tiny hickeys all over, but Chris took all the blame for that. 

* * *

 

The following day, Chris awoke once again to a missing Darren. He wondered where he could be. Starting breakfast, he heard the front door open, and saw Darren walk inside, holding a shopping bag.

“Good morning.” he said, way too cheerful for someone who had obviously woken up outrageously early. ‘ _What had he been up to?’_ Chris wondered. 

“I went shopping.” Darren said. Putting the bag on the counter. “I got a collar for Cooper, because I needed something as an apology for sleeping in his crate last night. I ruined his sanctuary and all that.” 

He held out a new collar, with a little charm reading ‘ _Papa’s Favorite Pup_.’  

“Since you insist on being ‘daddy’”. he continued, earning a loving gaze from Chris. 

Chris loved it when he said things like that. Although, he’d been doing it forever, it still gave him a sense of security and family and love. 

“You think he’ll like it?” Darren asked. 

“Definitely, but I don’t think that’s what you need to worry about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you forgot about a certain someone. Someone who you spent a night in an animal’s crate with. Who snuggled up against you, and who gets very angry when we don’t get him gifts as well. I’d be very scared if I were you right now.” Chris said, smirking as Darren caught on.  

“Oh shit.” 


End file.
